Hawkeye's Session
by Sandyswrite
Summary: Or What Clint was Doing During "The Winter Soldier." SPOILERS for CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER and THOR: THE DARK WORLD and THE AVENGERS. Barton is forced to participate in a follow-up therapy session due to what happened to him during THE AVENGERS movie. It ends up being the worst session in the entire history of therapy sessions.


WARNING: **SPOILERS** for "CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER" and "THOR: THE DARK WORLD" and "THE AVENGERS"

**Loved "The Winter Soldier!" There was great character development on both Rogers's part and Romanoff's. And the Falcon?! Fantastic. :D Wonderful stories all the way around.**

**But where was Clint? I'm assuming there will be a graphic novel/comic written that explains his whereabouts during the film (oooo, or maybe a "Oneshot" on the CA:TWS DVD? That would be amazing), but I decided to take a crack at the explanation, anyway. ;) Seriously, they need to get this guy in more of the movies.**

_******DISCLAIMER: This is a fanfic, meaning it was written for fun and not for profit. I do not own anything in regards to this fanfic (except perhaps the plot, but even that contains plot elements from the Marvel Movies, so I do not own ALL of the plot).**_

Scowling, Clint swung the door open. Out of the corner of his eye-back in the hall-he could see Ben the secretary stand up.

Clint had visited with Ben many times in the past. The kid was nice enough, but he was easily intimidated; he always hesitated at the worst moments, stuttering half-ass apologies and demands. He proved to be no different today as Clint marched into the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

The therapist, poised as ever in that God awful-looking chair, glared at him. The patient on the God-awful looking couch merely blinked at him.

"I'm here," Clint said, crossing his arms. "Let's get this over with."

"I'm with a patient," Dr. Teach said. She motioned toward the patient as if it was necessary.

"That's okay," the woman said. She stood up and smiled at Clint. It was a forced smile, but her eyes spoke with sincere understanding.

He winced, immediately turning the expression into his own forced smile as she walked passed him. "Sorry," he whispered to her shoulder. If she heard him, she gave no indication of it; she just exited the office.

"Well," Teach said. She grabbed her pen and assaulted her notepad with notes, "you're here. Let's get this over with."

"Hey, you forced me to come here, not the other way around."

"You are a trauma patient, Barton."

"_Was_ a trauma patient. I'm cured now."

"You were brainwashed into being Loki's slave." She slapped the pen down, raising her gaze. "You'll never be cured."

Rage burned his torso. He inhaled a taut breath, but that only made his anger feel…_itchy_. "Then what's the point of this?"

"Of therapy? Or of follow-up appointments?"

"Both."

"In your case, therapy is a means to help you _cope _with your past trauma. The trauma will haunt you forever, as it would any good man, but you are still capable of living a satisfying, productive life."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"The follow-up appointments," she continued, "are for me. I need to make sure my initial assessments of your recovery are…accurate."

"I've been on missions," he said. "Hell, I just came back from one."

"You've had missions that _I _deemed you able to handle. If you don't want me to have that power over you any longer, then you will sit down and endure this session." She pointed at the couch.

He eyed the piece of furniture with disgust. It looked as sharp and metallic as the walls and tables did; no, it looked like glass. This whole situation was ridiculous.

"Fury's dead," he said. It was easy enough to speak the words, but his heart still constricted at them. He shook it off. "And Captain America is a damn fugitive. I don't have time for this."

"If you want clearance into the ongoing investigation of Fury's assassination, as well as into the search for Steve Rogers, then you will sit down _now_, Agent Barton."

He grinded his teeth, but did as instructed. The couch forced him to sit ramrod straight.

"Tell me what happened on this latest mission of yours," she said, her eyes glued to the notepad. She clicked her pen a few times.

He huffed. "I was leading the protection detail for SHIELD scientists and consultants in London. After Foster's…experiences, SHIELD wanted to contain and, if possible, understand the phenomena she discovered. One attempt led to another, and somehow trying to force the portals to shrink caused them to explode. I was standing a little too close to one of these portals and-" He mimed an explosion with his hands. When Teach still refused to look up from her notepad, he glared. "It knocked me out. Concussion. Partial hearing loss-most of which has returned. Are we done now?"

She scribbled some notes. "No."

"What else do you want to know? I don't have all day."

"Why were you standing so close to the phenomenon? The _Asgardian_ phenomenon, no less."

"It wasn't Asgardian. It was astrophysical, but not everything related to space is related to Asgard; it isn't the center of the universe…at least I don't think it is."

"Regardless. Why?"

"It was my job. The scientists and consultants risk their lives dealing with these types of situations; me and my agents risk our lives to make sure that the scientists don't actually risk their lives."

"That's confusing."

"Not to me."

She furrowed her brow. "Did anyone else suffer similar injuries to yours during the explosions?"

He nodded. "No casualties though. Thank God."

"Who?"

"I know Selvig had a mild concussion-"

"Because you jumped on top of him and took most of the blast."

He narrowed his gaze at her. Stiffening-much to his own surprise, given how stiff the damn couch was already making him-he spoke with acidic suspicion. "If you read my report, then why are you asking me these questions?"

"I wanted to know how you would answer them without time to process them. And you mentioning Selvig first is significant."

He rolled his eyes. "Why?"

"Because you still blame yourself for Loki enslaving him."

He barked out a laugh. "What? That wasn't my fault."

"I know." She finally raised her gaze to give him a pointed look.

"_I_ know that, too," he said. He laughed again, shaking his head with confusion and frustration. When she didn't respond-didn't even take a note-he turned to the clock. "Are we finished yet? Because this actually is a waste of my time."

"You are constantly doubting your instincts," she said, clearly ignoring his previous statements. "You were assigned to protect Selvig when he was studying the Tesseract, and you failed him."

"I was assigned to overlook the Tesseract project," he snapped. "And I did the best that I could. Loki came after me first."

"Because he knew you were the strongest threat."

"I was _one of_ the strongest threats." He shook his head. "Look, Teach, I don't blame myself. Shit got out of control fast that day-nothing I was ever prepared for-and I did the best I could. Your theory is way off."

"Doubt is healthy," she said. Her face was so stoic that it seemed like she was talking to a wall…or like Clint was talking to a wall. The thought gave him pause. "The unexamined life is a life not worth living, after all, and doubt is always a result of examination. Always. And it is good. It can make you realize that you have been avoiding truth and goodness for your entire life."

"…I don't follow."

"Loki took away your will. Now that you have it back, are you using it for the greater good?"

"Yes."

"Are you upholding the law to the highest standards?"

"High enough."

"Is your ground of integrity and righteousness stable?"

"Ground of…what? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, Agent Barton." She leaned forward, a calculating glint coming over her eyes. "Are you really the kind of hero you want to be?"

"Yes. Obviously." He leaned closer, too, squinting at her odd and disturbing expression. "What's the matter with you?"

Ben burst into the office. This being very unlike Ben, Clint jumped up from the couch and raised his fists. But the secretary merely held the door open.

"Listen!" he shouted, his face tight with panic. He waved toward the hallway.

Clint rubbed at his ears and moved closer to the door. When he heard Rogers's voice over the intercom, he straightened. As horrifying and preposterous as Cap's claims came off, Clint didn't doubt them for a second. Betrayal penetrated his heart and squeezed his throat before the broadcast was even finished.

"How could-" He turned to Teach, and was startled to find her standing right next to him. She looked as shocked and hurt as he felt.

Then her cheek twitched; it told him everything he should have realized years ago. His eyes widened fractionally.

A beat.

Teach's fist shot toward his face. Clint ducked out of the way and pinned her wrist against his shoulder, using his other hand to strike her. She spun, twisting his arms and slamming the both of them against the wall.

Ben screamed and ran out of the office.

With her high heel shoe, Teach kicked-practically _stabbed_-Clint's stomach, making him double over and release her. She tried to kick his face, but he twisted away and grabbed her ankle. He yanked her forward and punched her square in the jaw. Her hand snapped to his arm, and she used it to raise herself to kick her free foot at his neck. He managed to catch it, but it still made contact with his throat, and they both fell to the ground. Breathless-choking, really-he pounced on her. They tumbled.

A shot rang out and pain brushed against Clint's thigh. A strangled cry clogged his throat as he and Teach froze on the ground. He took the opportunity to look over at the door.

Ben stood there, aiming a gun at the two of them-or at _Clint_, it would seem.

"Shit," Clint growled. Easily intimidated or not, Ben now had the advantage over him…and the kid's hands were shaking, for God's sake.

Embarrassment bruised Clint's pride, even more so when he realized the edge of his thigh was bleeding. He cursed again.

"S-s-sorry, Agent Bart-ton," Ben said, choked up. His lip trembled. "I-I-I didn't m-mean to sh-shoot you."

Clint's eyebrows shot up.

"I-I'm a terrible sh-"

Teach punched Clint's throat, and the two were at it again-Clint wheezing and cursing and shouting at Ben to _shoot her _already. Shots did ring out, but none of them hit their mark.

During the struggle, teach had gotten a hold of a picture frame and punctured Clint's cheek with it. He slammed her against the wall, but she sliced him with the frame again and his grip loosened. She-

Another shot pierced the air, accompanied by the sounds of wizzing and clanking as the bullet ricocheted off the wall, a table, another a wall, another table, and then-

Teach's head lurched to the side, blood spurting out above her ear. Clint took a step back and allowed her body to collapse to the ground. Panting and sore, he turned back to Ben. Even though the kid had never looked more traumatized, Clint couldn't help but give him a thumbs up.

"That was impressive, kid."

Ben's wide eyes shifted to his gun. "I-I-I d-didn't mean-"

Clint walked-well, limped-up to him and clasped the kid's shoulder. "I know, but I won't tell anyone. A shot like that? That's the kind that happens in legends! Or, you know, the kind of stuff that only I can accomplish. People will be talking about this for years."

Ben was near tears. A first kill-which this must have been for Ben-had a way of doing that. Regardless, Clint was just so surprised and-damn it-proud of Ben. He had never expected anything like this from the kid.

"You know, I don't even know your last name," Clint said, leading Ben out of the office.

Ben swallowed. "M-Morse."

"Morse? That sounds familiar."

"My sister's an agent. And a doctor. Kind of a genius."

Clint stopped. Hesitantly, his eyes shifted back to the office-specifically, at the dead Teach. He grimaced as he turned back to Ben. "That wasn't her, was it?"

"No! God no!"

"Oh, good." Clint moved them onward. "Otherwise, this could have been awkward." He eyed Ben's weapon, which was shaking uncontrollably in the kid's unsteady grip. Clint took the weapon. "Not to take away from your moment, but we'll probably both survive this if _I_ do the shooting from now on."

Ben nodded eagerly.

***CATWS*CATWS*CATWS***

Clint leaned against the gate of the cemetery, smirking when Natasha faltered in step at the sight of him. She quickly recovered-acted like nothing happened-and walked up to him.

"How'd you find me?" she asked, crossing her arms defensively. She was grinning.

He tilted his head forward, eyes peeking over his sunglasses. "Tasha, I know you better than you know yourself."

"Are you bragging?"

"Just stating a fact."

"Well, if you are just stating fact, then why did it take you _this_ long to find me?"

He shrugged. "I got sidetracked."

"Sidetracked?"

"My therapist was Hydra."

She winced. "Ouch."

"Damn straight."

A light wind brushed passed them, making a few leaves fall and slide over his arms. He didn't acknowledge them. He kept his gaze on Natasha, and she kept hers on him. Despite everything-the lies, the world-altering betrayal-he knew she could be trusted. And based on the way she was staring at him, he knew she felt the same about him. It made him smile.

"Well, I have to start over," Natasha said, uncrossing her arms. She glanced around. "Create a few aliases, lay low for a while…I'm actually not sure what I'm going to do with myself now."

"I have an idea if you're interested."

Clearly interested, she looked back at him.

"I looked into some of the SHIELD files that were released," he said. He took a deep breath. "It turns out Coulson's alive."

She paled, but as before, she quickly recovered. "So you were right."

"You sound surprised."

She nodded, giving him a sheepish look.

"You want to go find him?" he asked. "Kick his ass for lying to us?"

She hesitated. Then her grin returned in full, her eyes shining with hope and determination. "Why not?"

**I doubt that Marvel is planning to do a story like this in "Agents of SHIELD," but wouldn't that be awesome? At least it would give Hawkeye some air time! ;)**

**I'm not planning on a sequel-I'm not sure where "Agents of SHIELD" is going with their storyline, after all. But there certainly is room for a sequel, isn't there? Maybe after the season 1 finale, but no promises!**


End file.
